


Trumptacles (or Trump/His Hair: A Love Story)

by infiniteworld8



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alien Fairies Control Hilary Clinton, Based on True Events, Donald Trump Looks Like a Flabby Balding Baby Without His Hair, Donald Trump's Hair - Freeform, Dubious Consentacles, His Hair is Sentient, I lie...I so Lie, Mind Control, Other, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is the Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteworld8/pseuds/infiniteworld8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trump is not responsible for his actions, his hair is an evil symbiotic creature mind controlling him. He initially entered into a consensual relationship with this beast but now his will is not his own. He comes home every night and the hair detaches itself and morphs into a  giant hair tentacle thing similar to Cousin It then proceeds to force its evil tentacles into his very soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trumptacles (or Trump/His Hair: A Love Story)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by[Apotheocrisy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Apotheocrisy) Any remaining Incoherence is my own fault. Thanks Apotheocrisy!

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but it had. One day he was staring down the face of impending baldness and contemplating a future of wigs and hair restoration treatments and the next his problem was solved. It might have dropped from the sky or maybe he had woken up with it one morning…he couldn’t quite remember.

Trump walked into his hotel room and locked the door behind him after gesturing for his guards to leave him in peace. It was time to be alone, just him and them. It wasn’t even so much wanting to be alone as knowing  he had to.  _ It  _ demanded time alone…time to do whatever it pleased to him…as if being with him every moment of every day was enough.

Trump slowly pulled the curtains shut and made sure there were no cameras. Then he turned on some music making it as loud as he could while making sure that  his body guards or hotel employees would have no reason to come bother him. He could feel it getting impatient.  _ Hurry Donald, hurry. I’m waiting. _

There was no resisting the voice he heard in his head and after all this time he wasn’t sure he wanted to.  _ It  _  hadn’t been happy with millions and millions of dollars, being famous, being one of the most powerful men in America.

Maybe it was  _ Celebrity Apprentice  _ that had first given it the taste of power, but now yelling  _ You’re Fired  _ at celebs and middle-class Americans looking for fame and a payday wasn’t enough.  _ It  _ wanted more. It wanted to rule. To be president of America and…who knew what was the endgame after that.

Slowly, Trump pulled his clothes off dropping them into a pile on the floor. He had barely enough time to stumble to bed, his middle age paunch hitting the mattress as he fell face first writhing in pain. He turned to his side whimpering as he felt his hair detach from his head. If he could have worked through the pain to reach his hand up he would have felt his balding pate, but he already knew from times before what had happened.

_ It _ had come. His hair or what passed for it had detached from his scalp and became it’s own entity again. Just as it did every night, whenever they were alone.

Trump opened his eyes as the pain faded and looked at the thing. It was a dirty blond clump of hair but much larger than it had been before…he had long ceased to bother trying to figure out where the human sized clump of strands came from or where the tentacles it slipped out ended. They seemed to be strands of hair twined together, each tentacle made up of hundreds…probably thousands of thick strands.

_ Come to me. _

The entity called out. Trump tried to resist its siren call but it was no use. He moved forward and lay there as the tentacles caressed him. The hair tickled his body as it explored him…as if it didn’t already know every inch.

All the insults he (and if he was truthful his hair) had laid into the other candidates with seemed pointless now. He had wanted power, and when the entity had shown him the path to glory he had walked willingly. He still wanted the power, to be president of the free world…but was it meaningless when he wasn’t even in control of his own body?

Trump imagined the things Lying Ted, Crooked Hilary, Little Rubio or that old fart Sanders would say if they could see him now…oh how they would laugh. But they didn’t understand how much he loved this…wanted this…needed this.

Trump shook his head…his thoughts were muddled they always were now. It was probably the entity’s influence. His hair had clouded his judgment so much that Trump couldn’t even deny that he loved it now. He was in love with a silky ball of blond strands with tentacles that probed in places that ought not to be probed.

Trump gasped in surprise as a tentacle slipped out caressing his face, before it slipped past his lips. He choked and gagged as it wiggled its way down. He was gagging and retching and had to force himself not to bite down as he felt the hair twisting inside his mouth and down his esophagus. It was minutes before it was done. The hair withdrew and Trumped heaved and panted trying to catch his breath.

_ I want us to be together…so close together. _

“Y—yes.” Donald choked.

His acquiescence didn’t matter. Because seconds later he felt almost gentle caresses s the tentacles probed him lower. He involuntarily tightened as a tip slipped in and then more…tentacle after tentacle filling him. They writhed inside of him and then before he could do anything it flipped him over. His moans of pain and pleasure were drowned in the sheets as he fisted his hands in the hotel comforter.

His hair wasn’t gentle and after moments when the pleasure had long since disappeared and there was only pain it withdrew.

_ You are mine. _

“Yes, yours.” Trump sobbed out the words.

_ We are one….only one.  _ He painfully maneuvered so he was facing up and was just in time to see the bizarre morphing as his hair twined around him, the tentacles focusing on his head…and then it was absorbing into him. Within seconds it was done and he could feel they were together.

_ Together forever. To win. To rule. _

“Yes.” Trump agreed aloud, already composing himself. They would rule.

But first he had to get rid of Crooked Hilary and to do that he needed to find a way to defeat the power she had gained from the Alien Fairies that controlled her.


End file.
